


Peter, Paul, Mary

by nuricurry



Category: Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-10 00:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2003832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuricurry/pseuds/nuricurry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of oneshots for Lysandre/Sycamore/Diantha OT3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cross Path

**Cross Path**  
  
They were in a constant state of motion, filtering in and out of each other’s lives on a regular basis. A movie role would come up, or a new development in Pokemon research, or the project Lysandre was always working on but never spoke of would place them at different points in their lives, rarely a moment spared to intersect. Yet, ultimately, they always would, there was always a chance for overlap when they did whatever it took to have it all meet up somewhere in the middle.   
  
Diantha and Augustine greeted everyone with kisses on both cheeks, a friendly start to any meeting. Lysandre, always the most reserved and less forward of their trio, in contrast, usually only spared a handshake to strangers and a quick one armed embrace for friends. Not that anyone minded, it was just how he was, and how different they could all be even as they shared plenty of similarities. Once pleasantries were exchanged, a brief “how are you?”, “were you busy?”, “glad to be back,” Diantha took two small packages from the suitcase she had with her (she had come to the cafe directly from the station without stopping by her apartment) and held them out to each of them.   
  
“ _Mon cheri_ , you shouldn’t have!” Augustine exclaimed but tore into his gift either way, while Lysandre simply looked at his, as if unsure what exactly it was. When Augustine revealed a pair of novelty sunglasses from the coast, his eyes lit up while Lysandre’s grew concerned, and he seemed apprehensive while the other man threw his arms around Diantha and professed his love and gratitude with rambling nonsense and kisses to her cheek. “ _J’adore, mon chouchou_! They’re wonderful!” he praised, and she took the affection in stride, quietly allowing him his moment before lightly pushing his face away.  
  
"I assure you it’s nothing similar," she told Lysandre to quell his uncertainty, ignoring Augustine as he tried on his new glasses, _ooh_ -ing and _ahh_ -ing over surely nothing actually very interesting. “That isn’t your style, of course.”  
  
Seemingly relieved, Lysandre nodded, finally giving Diantha a word of thanks and faint smile, just one corner of his lips turning up. “I appreciate the consideration,” he said, but seemed no more likely to open his gift than before. Seeming to notice this, Augustine came to his side, still wearing his own present, and leaned against his arm.  
  
"You should see what it is!" he encouraged, "I’m curious as to what dear Diantha chose," he mused, though quickly followed it up with an elaboration, "Not that I don’t trust the taste of our _minette_ , of course,” he smiled at her, making her roll her eyes a bit, good-naturedly. But excitement seemed to come over him again, and he gave his attention back to Lysandre. “Open it!”  
  
"You don’t have to," Diantha assured, seeing the discomfort Lysandre felt to be place in the center of attention, but Augustine followed up her promise with a contrary, "no, let’s see, _s’il vous plait_!” She frowned at him, and he smiled, while the third of their trio looked positively pained to be caught in between.   
  
"Augustine," she said firmly.  
  
"Diantha," he returned with a laugh.  
  
"Excuse me," Lysandre finally spoke up as he broke away to quickly slip into the back room.   
  
Augustine looked surprised to see him go, and Diantha could only sigh. Putting a hand on her hip, she said to him, “You tease far too much.”  
  
"I don’t mean to," he said sincerely, just as Lysandre returned from his quick exit, no longer holding his parcel but with a much more relaxed expression on his features. "Ah, Lysandre!" he called to him as he approached, "Forgive me, I don’t mean to tease, you know that, _non_?”   
  
"It’s fine," the other man assured, before looking to Diantha, "Thank you, once again, for the gift. You do have fine taste," he complimented.  
  
Augustine’s eyes lit up, and it was clear that whatever was passed between the other two pleased him. “What was it? What did she get you? Can I see?” he bubbled with excitement, looking from one to the other, “Dear Diantha, tell me! What is this gift?”  
  
"I’m glad to hear that," she ignored Augustine, instead only smiling at Lysandre, "I hoped you would." She moved forward, and Lysandre bent to meet her half way, sparing her a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth. Augustine persisted beside them, his curiosity only getting worse.  
  
"What did she get?!" he pleaded to know, brimming over with inquisition, yet neither complied, instead Diantha only turning to give him a brief peck as well, before taking her suitcase in hand again.   
  
"You can both come to dinner tomorrow," she invited, as she turned to depart, "We can catch up properly then. _Au revior_ ,” she promised with a smile that fit any movie starlet.   
  
Even when her foot hit the paved stone outside the cafe, she could still hear Augustine inside begging, “Lysandre, _canard_ , tell me, what did she get?!”


	2. Cold Front

Cold Front

The first thing Augustine said over his holocast message was, “We should go on a trip!”

Lysandre was taken aback by the abrupt suggestion, and was about to comment on the suddenness of it, but Diantha beat him to it. “Mon chèr, where did you come up with this out of the blue?” she asked, causing Augustine’s smile to widen even more.

”Magnifique, non?” he grinned, quite pleased with himself, “It will be an adventure! We hardly ever have the time anymore, don’t you think it would be perfect?”

Lysandre couldn’t help but inquire, “Is this because that grant you were working on was dismissed?” Yet, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and he saw the way Augustine deflated a bit, he quickly tried to amend the situation, “You seem to be in a rush.” That, however, only made it worse, Augustine giving a soft, sad laugh.

"I have some time this weekend," Dinatha cut in before either man could speak up again, "Does that sound good to you?"

"Wonderful!" Augustine brightened once more, and Lysandre felt relief, "And you, mon mimi?” he directed the question back, and both waited for Lysandre’s reply.

He hesitated, looking up from his holocaster to the collections of papers on his desk, diagrams for the room he was building beneath the cafe, the hours of planning and organizing he still had to do with an architect before he could even start his project. Augustine hummed, and Dinatha lifted her brows when he glanced down again.

"Yes, I’ll be available," he agreed at last, and Augustine beamed.

 

It seemed Anistar City was fairly brisk this time of year, because once they stepped off the train, Dinatha immediately turned up the collar of her jacket to fend off some of the chill and Augustine unrolled his sleeves, laughing a bit as he did. “My, I didn’t expect it to be so cold!” he tried to make light of it all, as Lysandre held onto Dinatha’s overnight bag for her so she could dig through the contents for a scarf, “Lucky us!”

Tying the scarf tightly around her neck, Dinatha inquired, “Lucky?” as she went to take back her luggage, but Lysandre held firm and instead insisted on carrying it, “Was this your plan, Augustine?”

"Yes, yes," he smiled, certainly excited about something, "if the weather is cold, we might be able to encounter some seasonal Pokemon in this area! Isn’t that interesting? Getting to witness their migration patters for ourselves, what a treat!"

Lysandre and Dinatha both gave small smiles while Augustine bounded away, making a beeline for a woman standing beside the ticket dispensers, clearly intending to chat her up about one thing or another. Once he was out of earshot, Lysandre murmured, “Don’t things usually migrate south during cold weather?”

"Yes," she agreed, strained smile still in place, widening a bit for just a moment when Augustine turned around to look at them both, before it fell again, "I think I can understand why."

Lysandre switched both his suitcase and hers into one hand in order to reach down and take one of hers into his freed one, wrapping his larger fingers around hers to warm them up.

"He seems content," he commented, as if that excused the whole situation, and Dinatha sighed, but nodded her head once.

 

The next morning wasn’t quite as cold as the one before, yet Lysandre refused to take any chances, especially ones that could be at the expense of Kalos’ leading actress.

Dinatha stood stiffly beside the railing of Anistar City’s sundail, entire body bundled with layers of the warmest clothes Lysandre could find at the boutique. She wore two pairs of gloves, a sweater, jacket, and coat on top of the layered outfit he helped her pick out of the few things she brought for the short trip, and around her neck was a scarf thick enough to cover up the lower part of her face as well.

"Would you like your earmuffs," he offered her, but only received a sharp look in response, along with a muffled comment he wasn’t sure he wanted repeated.

“Mes amies!” Augustine called for their attention, his own scarf loose around his shoulders and threatening to slip off as he leaned over the railing behind Anistar City’s large crystal, trying to see into a bush that lined the cliff side, “I found a nest!” He leaned over more, and reached out with one hand to push leaves aside, only to pitch forward as he did so.

In an instant, Lysandre was at his side and put his hands around his waist to yank him back, sucessfully keeping the other man from taking a dive off the cliff into the rocky water far below. Without missing a beat, Augustine laughed, turned his body a bit to pat Lysandre’s cheek, before giving him a quick kiss of gratitude. “That was a close one, non?” he chuckled, “But ah, the nest was empty. How sad! It seems no one has come back yet this year!” he commented woefully, clearly disappointed to see it was apparently so. “Perhaps they’ll return before we leave! That would be wonderful!” he went on, quickly growing optimistic again as he stepped away from Lysandre to turn to Dinatha. As if he was seeing her for the first time that day (and that probably wasn’t far from the truth, considering how narrow his sight could be when it came to potential discoveries), he looked her over once, before beginning to laugh. “Mon ange, are you truly that cold? Ah, perhaps we should head to a cafe, surely some coffee would warm us all up,” he hummed, considering that suggestion.

Reaching up to yank the scarf from her face, Dinatha said quite openly, “I’m sweating.”

Joining the other two, Lysandre spoke up in his defense, “You don’t want to get cold,” he cautioned her, “As a célébrité, your body is very important. Were you to catch frostbite and lose—”

"I will not be frostbitten! It isn’t even snowing!"

"It doesn’t have to be snowing for—"

"Lysandre," she said firmly, trying to put her hands on her hips, but it was nearly impossible to do so, when the thick layers of clothes made it nearly impossible to, in fact, find her hips, "Mon chéri, I appreciate the thought, truly,” she made sure to point that out, “but I am quite fine to take care of myself! I think I know how to care for my body just fine, merci beaucoup!” She stressed the end quite a bit, making it clear that she thought the matter closed.

Yet, even still, Lysandre pressed, “But your beauty…”

"Lysandre!"

The argument was interuppted by Augustine’s laughter. Both turned to look at him, and they must have shared equal looks of frustration, because his mirth died for only a moment, before it started up again, growing louder as he threw his head back and continued on with his laughing, seemingly unable to stop. After another sharp look from the two of them, he at last tried to reign in his amusement, coughing into his hand in an attempt to mask snorts and giggles here and there. “Ah, mes chatons,” he at last said with a note of humor still in his tone, “You are both too precious, I love it. It’s like watching a pair of Litleo, with all the back and forth, it’s quite lovely,” he went on, giving them both an affectionate smile, “Please, don’t stop on my account!” he encouraged, apparently more than willing to watch the two of them bicker, rather than attempt to stop it.

"I am no such thing," Dinatha countered, though the heat had left her voice, and she seemed to sniff in disapproval merely for principle. Augustine chuckled at her again and come to turn her face a bit in order to give her a quick kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Oh my, chère, your nose is cold!” he said afterwards, and Lysandre moved closer to see of himself, touching the back of his hand to Dinatha’s nose to test the temperature of it.

"Let’s…" he began, but quickly stopped himself, as Dinatha’s eyes narrowed at him again, "Would you like to go inside for a bit?" he offered instead of instructed, and she took a moment to consider, before finally giving a curt nod.

"Let’s go to the cafe," she echoed Augustine’s earlier suggestion, much to his excitement.

"Wonderful! Let’s!" he spun Dinatha a bit before hooking their arms together, then looking over to Lysandre on her other side, giving him an expectant look. Both Lysandre and Dinatha looked to each other, before he offered her his arm as well, and she slipped her other around it, lacing the three of them together with her in the middle. Pleased and satisfied, Augustine grinned, before pointing straight ahead and saying, "Right around the corner! We’ll get coffee and then head out to the Mamoswine Road! I’ve always wanted to ride one!" he gushed, going into a long one-sided discussion about the different traits of Mamoswine and their benefit as transportation as he began to rush forward, their interlocked arms leaving the other two no choice but to follow along.


	3. Tender Loving Care

**Tender Loving Care**  
  
She woke up to a loud voice in her kitchen and a pounding headache. Turning in bed to check the time, she was surprised by the late morning hour, hardly ever being one to sleep in so late. She had even gone to bed early the night before, having felt a bit worn out then as well. The feeling seemed to be persisting, which was unfortunate, knowing well what sort of trouble it would cause. The voice in her kitchen seemed to pick up in volume, as the owner began to sing, and she was quite tempted to simply roll over and hope it would eventually stop. But, that wasn’t happening and with a bit of a grumble, she sat up in bed.   
  
“ _Mon cher_ ,” she called out, “I didn’t expect you over for a visit.”   
  
The singing stopped and she heard footsteps coming from her kitchen to her bedroom, and as her door opened, Augustine poked his head inside. “ _Bonjour_ darling Diantha!” he greeted with a wide smile, “Forgive me, did I disturb you? I saw you were sleeping so soundly this morning that I didn’t want to wake you so I was helping myself to some coffee. I hope you don’t mind,” he went on as he stepped inside the room, watching as she stood and grabbed a robe from the end of her bed. “Were you still tried _mon coeur_? You can go back to sleep if you want.”  
  
"No, I’m alright," she assured, though she squeezed her eyes shut as her head throbbed again, "I should probably get up anyway."   
  
Seeming to notice the expression that had crossed her face, Augustine’s own shifted into one of concern, and in a few quick strides he was at her side, and gently pressing his lips against her forehead. Pulling back just enough to look at her properly, he exclaimed, “You have a fever!”  
  
She feared as much. As soon as that was confirmed for her however, she gave Augustine a firm look and told him in no uncertain terms, “You are not to fetch Lysandre.” That amount of frustration and troublesome concern was more than she wished to deal with, especially while sick.  
  
Augustine’s face immediately fell, and he began to protest. “ _Mon cherie_ ,” he implored, but she simply narrowed her eyes, “I’m certain it wouldn’t be so—” he tried to go on anyway, but she cut him off.  
  
"No!" she reiterated, though the severity of her decision was a bit overshadowed by the way she sneezed a second later. Still, she was adamant, "Do not call Lysandre." Defeated, Augustine’s shoulder’s slumped and his face fell, clearly not pleased to be placed in the position she was forcing upon him. But, he nodded, and she at last relaxed a bit, releasing any lingering frustration with a sigh. " _Merci_ , Augustine,” she told him gratefully, “I’ll go get some tea,” she said, about to move around him, but he held up his hands, and shook his head.  
  
"No, no," he refused, "You return to bed. I’ll take care of you! Leave it to me!" he assured her, gently putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her around before guiding her back to the bed, "I promise _mon coeur_ , I’ll take care of you!”  
  
She couldn’t help but smile, touched by his insistence. She had refused to let him call Lysandre, and so, the least she could do would be to allow him to care for her, just for a little while, because she was sure he had other things to work on later that day, and he would only be around for a short while. For the time being, she wouldn’t mind the bit of attention. Slipping back beneath the covers, she let Augustine tuck her in, and kiss her forehead again, relaxing a bit at the comfort that gesture gave. “Thank you, Augustine,” she repeated the sentiment, and he grinned at her.   
  
"I’ll go make tea!" he said excitedly, as he turned and left the room.  
  
She must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing she was aware of was Augustine returning to her room with a tray, one of her favorite china tea sets set upon it. Augustine had been watching where he was stepping, carefully holding the tray with both hands, but as she moved to sit up, he glanced up at her with a smile. In that exact moment, his foot collided with the bench in front of her vanity and his entire body pitched forward while Diantha could only watch in horror. It was as if everything slowed down in that moment, because she witnessed everything, the way the teapot and cups tumbled off the tray, the way Augustine’s expression turned from a smile to panic, and without any chance of stopping it, of saving even the little sugar bowl with the delicate flower motif, she watched as it all went crashing to the floor porcilean shattering and tea soaking into the carpet.   
  
She looked up from the floor to him, and she was certain their faces were mirrors of each other, a mix of disbelief and despair. “I…” she began, but no further words came, and without missing a beat Augustine filled the silence with his apologizes.  
  
"Oh no, Diantha, _je regrette_!” Distraught, he quickly dropped to the floor to begin picking up the pieces of the broken teapot, gingerly placing them on the tray he placed on the floor beside him, “I’m so sorry, please, forgive me! I’ll replace it, I promise,” he rambled on, picking up piece after shattered piece. Without a word, Diantha got out of bed and knelt down to help him, carefully placing the destroyed tea set on the tray Augustine had brought it in on. He continued to apologize, expressing over and over how sorry he was, and each time Diantha gently assured him it would be alright.   
  
"Just be careful," she said, minding some sharp edges of her own, but not one moment later Augustine yelped, and when she looked, she saw blood dripping down his hand. Quickly placing the last few pieces of broken china on the tray, she then took Augustine by the wrist and stood up, pulling him along from her bedroom into the bathroom. "Here," she said, turning on the water in the sink and placing his hand beneath it, "I’ll get you a bandage."  
  
"Forgive me, Diantha," woefully, he dropped his head, ashamed, "I should be taking care of you."  
  
"It’s alright," she promised him again, as she took his hand out from beneath the faucet, gently dried it off with a piece of tissue, then placed a bandage over the cut on his finger. Once he was taken care of, she grabbed a towel, and went to return to the bedroom. "Come, let’s hurry before the tea sets in the carpet."  
  
  
Once the tea was soaked up into the towel, and Augustine took the try back into the kitchen, Diantha went back to bed, deciding to get a bit more rest, especially following the recent excitement.   
  
"I’ll just make you something light to eat," Augustine tried to comfort her, "I assure you, I won’t use any more of your nice dishware," he added on, just in case that was her concern.  
  
"Thank you," she said, and he left to go back to the kitchen. He had been gone for nearly half an hour, making all kinds of clamor and noise in the kitchen as he worked, thought she hadn’t been worried until she caught the very faint smell of smoke through her congestion. "Augustine?" she called, a note of worry in her voice.   
  
"It’s fine _mon chaton_!” was his quick reply, followed by another bang, and an exclamation of surprise, “I have it under control! You just rest!”  
  
Dread collected in the pit of her stomach like nausea, and she buried her head beneath the pillows, hoping that somehow, she wouldn’t come back out with her apartment in ashes around her.  
  
The noise seemed to die down after awhile, and the fire alarm had yet to sound, the first signs of good news. It seemed Augustine had gotten everything under control, though she couldn’t imagine how. Whatever it was, as long as it didn’t involve more broken dishes or a fire in her kitchen, she honestly couldn’t find it within her to care.  
  
She heard footsteps enter her room, and she slowly pulled herself up from beneath the pillows and blankets, asking “Did you sort everything out, Augustine?” as she began to turn around.  
  
Except it wasn’t Augustine. Lysandre held a bowl of soup in one hand and a plate of toast in the other, looking down at Diantha as she stared at him in surprise.  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
"Augustine told me you were sick," he explained, and from the doorway, she caught the man in question peering in.   
  
"I didn’t call him," he said quickly in his defense, "He called me! You didn’t say I couldn’t speak to him if he called," he pointed out, clearly weasing his way out of any scolding.   
  
Diantha was about to argue with that anyway, after all, did he really think it mattered when it came to the specifics? She knew Augustine knew what she meant before, even if she hadn’t spelled it out in quite so much detail. Yet, honestly, in that moment she didn’t care that Augustine had brought Lysandre over, because at the very least, she would still have a home at the end of the day this way. She couldn’t be angry when she was tempted to call him herself not a few minutes before.  
  
At least, that’s what she thought, until Lysandre said, “I’ve told you that you need to take better care of yourself! This is because you didn’t listen to me when I told you to stay warm in Anistar City,” he frowned at her, and immediately Diantha felt every ounce of her relief fade, “It’s very important for you to be conscious of your health! Besides, being ill is terrible for for your body, it ages you  more and more each time—”  
  
Falling back onto the bed, she grabbed a pillow and held it over her head in a vain attempt to block him out.


	4. Petit Café

**Petit Café**  
  
” _Merci_ ,” Diantha said to the young waitress that replaced her empty cup of coffee with a fresh one, causing the young woman to smile widely, though also color a bit in her cheeks, nodding before she quickly scampered away, leaving the outside patio in order to return inside the cafe and chat to the other staff behind the counter, who had been watching the exchange with rapt interest.   
  
"I can’t believe she really comes here!" one said in a poorly concealed whisper as Diantha lifted the cup to take a sip, "Do you think I could ask for an autograph?"  
  
Smiling just before she touched the rim of the cup to her lips, Diantha blew gently on the steaming drink, about to taste it, when a shadow appeared over her, and she lowered the mug and tipped up the wide brim of her hat, in order to see who had appeared. “Ah, Lys,” she greeted pleasantly, “have you come to join me?”   
  
Inside, the waitresses let out tittering sighs. Lysandre didn’t seem to notice them however, as he instead simply glanced between Diantha and the drink she held, before saying, “Tea is better for you. That will hurt your voice, and stain your teeth.”   
  
The smile that Diantha had put on at his arrival quickly dropped, and she cocked a brow at him, as if in challenge. “I appreciate the input,” she retorted dryly, before taking a long awaited sip of her coffee, looking to Lysandre through the corner of her eye as she did. “I was hoping you came to give me company, not lectures, _mon ami_ ,” she stated, as she placed the cup back on it’s saucer, and gestured to the chair across from her. It was both a question, and invitation. For a moment, Lysandre seemed to consider, before he took her up on it, and joined her at the small table. Giving him a full, sincere smile when he did, she asked, “Are you terribly busy today? I haven’t gotten to see you very often it seems.”   
  
Lysandre gave a snort nod, momentarily distracted as one of the waiters (because, it seemed, the waitresses were too busy giggling and sighing inside to approach the table themselves) arrived at his side to offer to take an order from him as well. “Espresso please,” he requested, “and a peppermint tea as well.” Diantha gave him a glare for that, but Lysandre said nothing, instead looking towards her once again, in order to answer her previous question. “I am…in the middle of some renovations,” he explained, “I hope they won’t take much longer,” he said, as he placed his hand on the table.   
  
Naturally, Diantha reached out to place hers on top of it, a mostly subconscious gesture that she had gotten into the habit of. “What sort of renovations?” she inquired, curious.  
  
Lysandre didn’t immediately answer. The waiter had returned with the drinks, and he had given the young man a word of thanks, before the waiter once more retreated into the cafe, leaving the two of them alone once again. He had simply stared at his coffee for a long moment, long enough for Diantha to call his name, and tap his wrist with her fingers, before he lifted his eyes to her once again, and asked, “Do you desire a perfect world?”   
  
Taken aback, Diantha didn’t have a quick reply. “ _Quoi_?” she said, as she tilted her head slightly, “Lys, _mon cher_ , what do you mean by that?” What sort of question was that to ask, out of nowhere?  
  
Lysandre had been about to respond, opening his mouth to answer her, when a chair was suddenly thrust into the space on Lysandre’s right side, and Augustine dropped himself into it, almost appearing from thin air, grinning widely as he greeted the two on either side of him. “ _Bonjour_!” he said to them both, leaning one way to peck Dianatha’s cheeks, and the other to do the same to Lysandre, “Lovely day isn’t it?”   
  
"Augustine," Lysandre said, both as a greeting, but, to Diantha’s ears, also with a strange note of relief. Her eyebrows rose, and she was about to comment on it, and ask him to return to his remark from before, but the newcomer cut her off as he waved to one of the waitresses inside.  
  
"Lemon tart please! And some pastries as well!" he ordered loudly with a grin.  
  
"Will you actually be able to pay for them this time?" one of the girls asked, and Augustine awkwardly laughed.  
  
"Of course! Your treat, right Lysandre?" he turned to the other man, who blinked once, before giving a bit of a gruff consent, and nod. " _Magnifiqué_!” Augustine beamed, “Make that two lemon tarts!” he corrected.  
  
Diantha dramatically rolled her eyes, before once more glancing at Lysandre. He had quietly taken up his espresso, and began to drink, the previous moment between them apparently forgotten. She took up her own cup, and sipped her coffee as well, deciding it best to leave it at that.   
  
"Oh, you’ve already ordered me something to drink," Augustine bubbled with enthusiasm, as he took the ignored tea, and drank it all in one quick gulp. Diantha smiled a bit into her cup, as Lysandre gave him a look, chuckling at his exasperated expression.


End file.
